Pancakes & Promises
Waking up at 4:30 AM to make food for Fan before work had been my routine since I learned how to scramble eggs. At least now I could cook him actual meals instead of serving him runny yolks for a year straight.
I sat up, brushing out my shoulder-length hazelnut hair, getting distracted thinking about cutting it again. I hated when my bangs got in my eyes; it always got in the way of my baking.
I washed my face and traded my nightgown for a bright yellow sundress. I figured I might as well bring a little positivity to a dreary, cloudy day.
Scurrying down to the kitchen, I debated making fresh donuts and a breakfast sandwich for us. But the second my feet hit the floorboards, I was stopped dead in my tracks.
Smoke?
I walked into the kitchen to see Fan—oh, my silly Fan—awkwardly swinging a frying pan around. It held a pile of pancakes that looked like they were somehow actively on fire.
I stood there in awe, lost in thought as a giggle escaped me. I really didn’t know what I would do without him.
I didn’t remember much about my childhood. I was only six when my parents disappeared. I remembered they were very strict and extremely loaded, but somehow, always warm. Then one day, they left for work and simply didn’t come back.
Fan was the one who got stuck with me. I had gone to stay at his condo until my parents returned, but they never did. Just like that, I was an orphan.
Somehow, Fan decided he wouldn’t let them put me in the system. He took me in as his own ever since. I’d been with him for over fifteen years now, and sometimes I worried I was outstaying my welcome. But he had never made a single move for me to leave. If anything, he did the opposite.
Truthfully, I had been pretty angry at him lately. I’d finally finished all my training and was ready to apply at a real bakery, but Fan had shut it down immediately. He told me it was dangerous and unneeded, saying he could easily provide for both of us for the rest of our lives.
When I refused to drop it, he got meaner. He told me that even if I did get a job, my income would be so tiny compared to his that it would be more of a hassle than if I simply stayed home.
That really lit my fuse. Even though I didn’t usually have a short temper, there were times when every breathing exercise in the world couldn’t stop my blood from boiling.
I had been giving him the silent treatment for a week straight—silently cooking, cleaning, and reading, completely keeping to myself.
Now, looking at him, I felt like an awful person. After everything he had done for me, I was being so selfish. He was clearly trying to cook breakfast as an apology when I should be the one apologizing to him.
Fan grabbed the small fire extinguisher, putting out the small flare-up, and looked over at me sheepishly.
“Uh... well, um... yeah. Surprise,” he mumbled in his gruff, gravelly voice.
I smiled, walking over to inspect his creation. He held out a plate of three pancakes. Each one was a completely different consistency, and all three were as black as tar. One was completely liquid in the middle, one was brittle like hard candy, and the third fell completely apart the second he moved the plate.
I started giggling before I could help myself. Fan started laughing too—a deep belly laugh that had me cracking up until tears filled my eyes. I launched myself into his arms, wrapping my hands around his neck while still trying to get my breath back.
After a second, his heavy arm came around me, hugging me tight while he held the ruined plate out to the side.
I pulled away, looking up at his tall figure. “Alright, alright, Gordon Ramsay. Thank you for my one-of-a-kind pancakes. Would you like to share them, or...?”
He laughed, patting my shoulder. “No, no. These honestly might be poison, and then I won’t get to give you your surprise.” He wiggled his eyebrows, rubbing his hands together secretively.
My eyebrows shot up. I definitely hadn’t expected a surprise. The last time he got me a gift, he bought me a subscription to four different digital reading platforms—all because I’d mentioned wanting to walk down to the local library, and he was worried for my safety. He could be a little overprotective sometimes, but it was sweet, and I was used to it.
“Now, you go sit,” he said, nudging me toward the dining room table. “Don’t think I don’t have a secret weapon.”
I heard the subtle clink of glass and liquid pouring before he walked back into the room holding two bowls of cereal.
I couldn’t help laughing again. “Well, isn’t this a feast for royalty?”
I grabbed my bowl and started shoveling cereal into my mouth. We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes until we both finished. Then, Fan stood up, walked over, and dropped to his knees right in front of my chair with a small box in his hands.
My heart started hammering. What on earth could this be?
I reached out to take the box, but before I could open it, Fan covered my hand with his.
“I am sorry about our disagreement,” he said softly. “It wasn’t fair of me. I pray you’ll forgive me.”
My chest tightened with guilt. I threw my arms around him again, completely forgetting about the small box. It clattered to the floor with a loud metallic ring.
Fan laughed, hugging me back before gently prying me off so he could pick it up. “Now, now... don’t you want to see the surprise you so rudely dropped?” he teased, smiling sarcastically.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, holding my hands out.
As he handed the velvet box back to me, I heard that distinct metallic clinking again. I furrowed my brow and lifted the lid.
My breath caught in my throat.
Inside was a shiny set of brass keys lying on top of a folded note.
I HOPE YOUR BAKERY IS HALF AS SWEET AS YOU.
Dropping the box and the keys right back into my lap, I stared at Fan, eyes stinging with sudden tears.
“W-W-What is this?” I stuttered, barely able to breathe.
“Like I said, I’m sorry,” Fan said, smiling up at me from the floor. “I want you to have this. I bought you a property. You have complete creative freedom to make it into whatever type of bakery you want. Decor, appliances—whatever you need. I’ll back you 100% financially. Just tell me what you need, and it’s done.”
“But—you can’t do that, Fan!” I gasped, tears escaping down my cheeks. “This is too much! You don’t have to—”
He stood up quickly, pulling me into a massive bear hug and hushing me gently.
“I’m putting my money on you, pretty girl,” he murmured, kissing the top of my head. “I’ve got your back, no matter what.”
I buried my face in his chest, crying for a few minutes while he held me.
Slowly, the reality began to sink in. This was actually happening. He had bought me a property. An actual storefront where I could build my dream from the ground up.
I looked up at him, and almost on cue, he nodded. “Wanna go see your newest project, smarty?”
I jumped up so fast that the top of my head slammed hard against the bottom of his chin.
We both froze, looked at each other, and burst out laughing all over again.
“Go grab your shoes!” he wheezed, rubbing his jaw.
I sprinted to my room to grab my purse and sneakers, hearing the jingle of his car keys from the hallway—right alongside the fresh set of keys to my brand-new bakery.
